Bittersweet by Nevada Barr Read Free Book Online

you best see it first.”
    “Burn it.” Emmanuel’s voice was hard and clipped. Sarah started to her feet. The drawing slipped from her lap and she slammed it into her knees. “Shh,” she hushed herself. Her father’s footfalls grew faint. She tiptoed to the door, putting her eye to the crack. Sam faced the evening star. Shoving his blunt thumb under the flap of the letter, he tore it open. Holding the pages to the last light, he read them, then took a tin of matches from his shirt pocket. Sarah ran from the shed. She stopped abruptly when Sam looked up.
    “You know I can’t show it to you. You heard your pa.” Sarah said nothing. Sam took a match and struck it against the sole of his boot. The breeze had died with the sun, and the flame burned steadily. He looked past the match at Sarah, her eyes pleading, catching the reflected fire, her lips parted. She scarcely seemed to breathe. Sam lit the corner of the paper and she cried out as though he had put the match to her skin. “Your brother’s okay,” he said.“I don’t suppose there’s any harm in telling you that.” The paper flamed and he dropped it to the ground. Sarah took his rough hand between hers, pressing it to her cheek.
    “Thank you, Mr. Ebbitt.”
    Sam looked at the small pale head bent over his fingers. He raised his free hand toward her hair; it faltered and froze midway. “Now, now,” he said gruffly, “quit your crying, it’s time we were going.”
    Sarah smiled up at him and squeezed his hand before releasing it.
     
    The hay was alive with young people when the wagon pulled away from the church. A harvest moon, full and fertile, hung on the horizon. Frost covered the ground with translucent silver, and the sound of the horses’ shod hooves striking the frozen earth echoed through the babble and laughter. Sarah and Karen were snuggled down in the straw near the rear of the wagon bed. Sarah waved to Mrs. Beard and Mam Tolstonadge. The women called their farewells from the steps of the church. Behind them, the windows were ablaze with light, and strains of accordion music sounded, muted, from within. “You girls stay warm,” Mam hollered. Sarah waved again.
    Karen didn’t. “Your ma thinks we’re babies.”
    At the end of the main street, where the road started down toward the railroad tracks, Sam turned the wagon into a wide, treelined lane. A shadow slipped from behind one of the last buildings and vaulted over the side of the slow-moving vehicle. A girl squealed and her young man laughed. “You come and go like the devil himself, Earl,” the boy said. Karen’s head popped up at the sound of Earl’s name, and Sarah’s mouth went tight with annoyance.
    “Hello, Mr. Sneaky B.” The girl had recovered from her start. Earl made a place for himself in the hay and the two boys fell into conversation. Earl struck a match, the flare shadowing his lean, handsome face. Karen rustled in the straw.
    “Let’s pay him no mind,” Sarah whispered. “He’s just showing off.”
    “I don’t care a fig for Earl Beard,” Karen said in a voice meant to carry. It caught Earl’s attention.
    “Now look what you’ve gone and done,” Sarah hissed. “He’s coming over.”
    “We’ll just pretend he ain’t here.” Karen threw a pert glanceover her shoulder and turned her back resolutely on the approaching figure. Earl sat down, leaning back against the planks.
    “Fine evening, Miss Cogswell.”
    “Lot you know.” Karen wriggled in the hay, a plump shoulder and rump pushed up.
    Sarah settled back into the straw, staring resignedly out over the tailgate. The moon climbed until it was no bigger than a thumbnail, and the stars shone brighter. The wagon had grown quiet as the horses plodded their steady way, circumnavigating the town. Sarah leaned back into the corner, watching the stars flow through the dark skeletons of trees overhead, Karen and Earl a single lump of shadow several feet away. Karen sucked in her breath sharply, making a